


Whitman's Man

by amproof



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-25
Updated: 2010-05-25
Packaged: 2017-10-09 17:20:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/89810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amproof/pseuds/amproof
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kris watches Adam sleep, has a freckle obsession, and is generally schmoopy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whitman's Man

**Author's Note:**

> for a prompt on [](http://community.livejournal.com/aianonlovefest/profile)[**aianonlovefest**](http://community.livejournal.com/aianonlovefest/) for _ Adam is asleep, and naked. Kris walks in on him and sees his nice, plump naked ass in the air and can't help himself._ Unbetaed. Sorry. Also, written on a sick day. Warnings: None, but some readers may find if dub-con b/c Adam is asleep.

  
Most nights, Kris falls asleep after Adam. Or, to be more accurate, he stays awake until after Adam is asleep. This is because, awake, Adam is fascinating: quick, clever, kind, and uninhibited. But in sleep, Adam is compelling--lithe, silent, powerful, and comforting. He is beautiful.

It also doesn't hurt from an entertainment factor that Adam flops himself unconsciously into ridiculous positions that make Kris more than tempted to get his iPhone out and start snapping pictures. There's the head-hanging-off-the-bed one, and the twisted-in-blankets-one that somehow ends with Adam wrongside-up with his feet on the pillow. Currently, Adam is sleeping on his stomach with one leg tucked underneath his chest and the other outstretched but angled just a fraction of an inch off-center.

And he's naked. Kris isn't sure how that happened, since Adam definitely went to bed with his leave-nothing-to-the-imagination boxer-briefs on, but Kris isn't going to spend too much brainpower thinking about it, especially since a few nights ago Adam somehow managed to sleep while bent from the waist forward off the edge of the mattress with his hair touching the floor.

So. Naked. And his ass is...the best part about it, actually. One cheek is stretched taut from the bent leg, while the other is just there, round and probably a little jiggly if Kris were to touch it. Kris does _not_ touch it. He does, however, ease out of his bed and kneel down beside Adam's for a closer look. Adam struts around onstage, but it's not like he actively flaunts his body. He never stands still long enough for anyone, by which Kris means himself, to get a good look. He's pretty sure that Adam doesn't like to feel appraised when he's 'off'. Not that Kris would appraise. He's all about appreciation. Kris has caught glimpses of Adam naked now and then, usually taking Adam by surprise (someday he'll remember to knock on his own door before barging in. Maybe.) as they stammered apologies at each other, and Adam either snatched something to cover himself or slammed a door in Kris's face, leaving Kris feeling stunned, both from the rapid movement and the image of Adam's cock (yeah, his eyes went there like it had a Kris-seeking magnet) seared in his brain. It wasn't an unpleasant image, and his mind shifted back to it probably more often than it should, given the whole married thing. But Adam's ass? Kris almost never gets to see that.

Adam's arms are folded neatly beneath his cheek, cradling his head as he sleeps in the complete and soothing way that usually follows the initial subconscious flailing. He'll stay for hours like this and then, just before morning, he'll twist himself up again and end up with his back on the mattress and his legs pressed parallel to the wall or somesuch mind boggling combination.

Not that Kris has ever stayed up all night to watch him do this. He's just a light sleeper. Really.

But the important thing is, for now, that Adam is deep in the out-like-a-light portion of the sleep cycle. Kris edges just a little closer. His eyes have adjusted to the dark, and there's the moonlight coming in through the window, too, and the security lights on the yard that are supposedly there to catch people--bad guys or fans, Kris isn't sure--sneaking in, but have so far only been successful in catching Adam sneaking out. (Kris suspects that Adam is about to accept Matt's offer to have someone smuggle him out in the trunk of a car. He's not sure if Matt was serious or not.) Adam always shrugs it off when he gets caught. "No big deal," he says, but Kris has never seen anyone turn eating an apple into such a sullen act, so he knows Adam is lying. Adam probably hates being stuck in the mansion with them. Not that Kris thinks he's lame, or that anyone is lame--it's just that they aren't any of them like Adam's friends. Not glittery and spectacular like that. So, he kind of understands Adam's need to escape, even if it does bother him a little. But so far he's managed not to ask Adam why they, why _he_, isn't good enough to keep Adam's attention. He doesn't want to sound like he's pouting. Also, maybe he's a little jealous, too, since his friends are in Arkansas and sneaking out to see them isn't an option.

Adam's ass has a light covering of blond hairs. It looks soft, like it's never been touched by a razor or anything like that. There are freckles below the hair. Hundreds and hundreds of freckles, scattered and splashed out, dropping around his hips and dipping into the crevice of the cheeks. Kris reaches out and traces his finger over them, holding it just above the skin so he isn't touching, but close enough that he brushes a hair now and then, and it is exactly as corn-silk smooth as he'd expected. Adam snuffles a little and shifts the outstretched leg out more. Kris can see Adam's hole now, partially, if he angles himself just so.

Kris thinks about things now that he never thought about before. Things like, how can he go back to Arkansas after this, and what if _nothing happens_ when it's over, and should he listen to the stylist and put the tight jeans on, and _oh my God, he has a stylist_. He thinks about these things at night, but then he turns towards Adam and he forgets all that. Adam makes him think other things that are new and a little scary, but in an exciting way, like a road trip where the gas stations aren't mapped out. There is always the possibility of getting stranded when he's thinking about Adam, but Kris is almost positive that wherever he ends up, it'll be a hell of a lot more exciting than where he started out.

At this moment, Kris is wondering if the freckles are around Adam's hole, too. He is wondering if they are inside him. If Kris were to put his finger in, to tease it open a little bit, would he see the tiny specks of red-brown there? Maybe just circling the inner rim? He doesn't think that freckles can be inside a person, but then again Adam has freckles in places Kris never imagined. They're on his cock, evident even with a quick glimpse, and behind his ears and underneath his nails. So, wondering if they're inside him probably isn't too crazy. If he didn't think Adam would think he was nuts, Kris would ask if he could look for them in Adam's mouth (not that he would say that specifically). He probably already spends too much time watching Adam eat, hoping to get a glimpse, but thankfully Adam tends to confuse staring with listening, so Kris has pretty much been in the clear on that.

He scoots down a bit, on his knees, and leans forward. He has to put one hand on the bed to steady himself, but he's careful not to let the mattress dip too much. He just wants a look. Despite the light in the room, it's still dark in this particular curve of ass. Kris has a pocket flashlight somewhere...

He snaps to sense before he goes to find it. Rummaging around would _definitely_ wake Adam up. _Great._ He's thinking about shining a light on Adam's asshole and his main concern is _waking Adam up_? Priorities, Kris. Get a hold of them. He's practically got his nose against him, trying to see. If Adam would just shift a bit more so he wouldn't have to use his hands, that would be great.

But Adam doesn't move, even though Kris thinks really hard at him for a good minute. At the end of that minute, Kris finds that he's touching Adam's ass. Not just touching, but _laying hands_ on it like he's offering a blessing, palms flat and with the thumbs dipping down into the crevice and pushing out. And _now_ Adam decides to move. The leg that was under him suddenly whips out, still bent, and lands perpendicular to Adam's body. Kris snatches his hands away and collapses face-down on the floor. This is the part where he should be thinking up excuses, but the best he can do is, "uhhhh." There's a reason why he never gets away with anything.

Thankfully, Adam is still as asleep as ever. Kris slowly eases himself back up. He can see Adam's hole now and those are definitely freckles around it. He just stares for a few moments, first at the hole and the chaotic swirl of pigmentation that does actually seem to dip inside, and then at Adam's ass and the wide expanse of his back with the dip at the base that marks the start of his spine and the lone outstretched leg which tapers right down to the end of the bed. Kris wants to crawl up those legs and over that back and lie down so he can nestle his head against Adam's and have Adam support him all night. It wouldn't be any different from how Adam supports him during the day.

Well. Maybe a little different. But it's all symbolic, and Kris knows that Adam is really into that sort of thing. He brought, like, twenty books with him about it.

Kris carefully moves himself away from the bed. He stands in the center of the floor between his and Adam's, just watching. He wants Adam to know that he is beautiful, that Kris knows him, that Kris _sees_ him, but that's not something Kris can tell him while he's asleep. And it's not something Kris knows how to say when Adam is awake.

But living in the mansion is like having a timer counting them down, and no one is sure when it's going to go off. Kris supposes that's like life. So, the point is, some things shouldn't be held back. Like I love you. Like I miss you, I care for you, I need you. Like this. Like Adam. Kris may not be a clever boy when it comes to words, but he can be, in other ways, creative.

And he doesn't have to make any noise to find his iPhone because it's just sitting on his night stand. He stands at the end of Adam's bed and snaps the picture. It takes in Adam's entire body, from his feet to his elbow sticking out from beneath his head. Adam looks ghost-gray in it and awash in specks, right up to the shock of black hair fallen over his arm, but all his curves are there, the ones that Kris loves, and the line of him that is always the last thing Kris sees before he falls asleep. He sends the picture in an email to Adam and goes to bed. It has to be good enough. Either that, or Adam will kill him in the morning for being a pervert. When Kris's friends told him to take chances in life, this probably isn't what they meant.

He doesn't know if he slept, but suddenly he's awake, and someone is with him. He twists around and finds Adam's arms around him. Kris blinks up, feeling snuffle-headed and uncertain. The picture. He shouldn't have. Maybe. But Adam in bed with him is a good sign, right? Adam looks half-awake, too, and he pats Kris's hair down and pulls him a little closer so Kris is flat against Adam's naked chest. The boxers are back on. Kris can feel the cotton rubbing his hip. He doesn't know if he's disappointed by this or not. He decides to wait to find out.

"Do you know how beautiful _you_ are?" Adam asks him, quoting back the single line Kris sent with the picture.

Kris buries his head against Adam's shoulder and holds on. He feels as if he'll shake apart if he has to let go, but Adam's arms are strong around him, and when Adam tilts his head up and kisses him, Kris gives himself over because Adam isn't letting go. Kris realizes, after the kiss finally breaks and he's still clutching Adam's back, that he isn't letting go, either.

And that the boxers are definitely a disappointment. But fortunately, some problems don't take an iPhone to solve.

  
the end

_   
**Fic: Whitman's Man (American Idol), R, Kris/Adam**   
_
    
    
    _
    **2**
    _
    
    The love of the body of man or woman balks account, the body itself  
        balks account,   
    That of the male is perfect, and that of the female is perfect.
    
    The expression of the face balks account,  
    But the expression of a well-made man appears not only in his face,  
    It is in his limbs and joints also, it is curiously in the joints of  
         his hips and wrists,  
    It is in his walk, the carriage of his neck, the flex of his waist  
        and knees, dress does not hide him,  
    The strong sweet quality he has strikes through the cotton and broadcloth,  
    To see him pass conveys as much as the best poem, perhaps more,  
    You linger to see his back, and the back of his neck and shoulder-side.  
    

\--[I Sing the Body Electric](http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15753) by Walt Whitman  



End file.
